“Finally done,” Fury announced, walking outside to where Huffman and I waited.
His elbow was bent at an odd angle toward his mouth.
She stopped. “What the hell are you doing?”
Huffman dropped his arm. “Did you know it’s impossible for the average human to lick their elbow?”
She slipped on her sunglasses. “You’re so weird.”
“You can leave?” I asked. We’d been there for over two hours, hence the boredom and consequent attempts at elbow-licking. Huffman had stayed with us the whole time.
“Yeah. I think he was trying to keep me there to change my mind about the burn center.” She held up a white paper bag. “He finally released me with a bottle of preemptive antibiotics.”
“That’s good.”
Az walked out the door behind her. “You guys ready?”
“Yeah,” Fury said. “Where’s Flint?”
“Hopefully calming down at the bar.” Azrael looked around us. “But we should take advantage of his absence. Huffman, is this your HOK?”
“Yes, sir,” Huffman said, loading the blood-stone case into the passenger-side floorboard.
“Mind dropping us at Echo-10 before you head back to the armory?”
“Sure thing. Hop in.”
My ears heard a buzz, and Fury pulled out her phone. “I’d better take it.”
“We’ll wait,” Huffman said.
“Hello,” Fury said with the phone to her ear. She walked to the other side of the building.
Az, Huffman, and I got in the HOK to wait. After about thirty seconds, Fury’s voice was raised, and she’d started pacing the grass strip along the side of the clinic.
“Looks like she’s giving somebody an ass-chewing,” Huffman said.
“Glad it isn’t me,” Azrael said with a grin.
Huffman laughed. “Preach.”
If I tried, I could probably hear who was on the receiving end of that call, as she was pretty loud and I had ultrasonic hearing. But I refrained. Partly out of respect, but mostly out of fear that she’d kick my ass.
The call seemed to end quickly, as she ripped the phone away from her ear and gawked at it. Then she stalked toward us.
When she was close, she threw her bag into the back seat beside me. I flinched.
“You all right?” I asked, leaning away from her.
“No.” She ripped off her sunglasses. “John wants a paternity test. Someone told him he might not be Jett’s father.”
I put my hands up. “It wasn’t me.”
“I know it wasn’t you.”
“You think it was Flint?” Azrael asked.
“Who else?” With a huff, she pushed her stuff onto the floorboard and sat down. “He’d obviously stop at nothing to try to keep me home. Now the whole world is about to know that Jett has the golden blood type.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Are you still going?” Azrael asked, turning around in his seat.
Her face went slack. “Of course I am.”
His brow rose. “You think John will be your nanny once he finds out he’s not the father, and that you’ve been lying to him for the better part of a year?”
“Shit.” She obviously hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Could you and Adrianne keep him?”
“Oh no. We’ve got enough baby drama all on our own without taking on yours.”
“What about Sloan?” She looked at me.
The thought of Sloan babysitting for Fury nearly short-circuited my brain. But besides the messed-up-ness of the idea, it wouldn’t be healthy for either kid. “Iliana and Jett can’t be around each other.”
Fury’s shoulders dropped.
“Maybe you’ll have to stay home then,” Huffman said, turning his palms up on the steering wheel.
Ignoring him, she sat back so hard in her seat that it shook the whole HOK.
“What’d he say?” I asked her quietly as Huffman backed out of the parking space.
It took a second for her to acknowledge me, which indicated she was fighting hard to keep her emotions in check. “He said he heard from a reliable source that he might want to test Jett’s paternity.”
“Did you tell him the truth?”
“I told him we needed to talk in person, and he said, ‘Oh, we will.’”
“At least you’ll have a chance to explain.”
“He said he would take Jett to the doctor, either way, to have the test done. Then he hung up on me.” She slumped forward and buried her face in her hands. “Damn it.”
“Want me to talk to him?” I asked.
She spoke through her fingers. “No offense, but I’m pretty sure you’re the last person he’d like to talk to.”
I wondered what she’d told him about me.
“Have Nathan talk to him,” Azrael said.
Fury straightened, obviously surprised that she hadn’t already thought of that. “That’s a great idea. Thanks, Az.”
When we stopped at Echo-10, Fury nudged my ribs as we got out of the HOK. Then she pointed behind me.
A massive man, like Reuel-massive, was walking straight toward us. He wore MultiCam fatigues and a full weapons belt. I recognized him immediately.
He worked Claymore’s main entrance gate. I’d once blasted it off its hinges. I followed Fury toward him.
“You have a visitor!” he shouted, his deep voice booming over the distance.
It took a second to realize he was talking to Fury, not me or Az. He wouldn’t even look at me as I walked up beside her. Perhaps I still wasn’t forgiven.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“A civilian. Says his name is John McNamara.”
Oh hell.
“Did you know he was coming?” Azrael asked Fury.
She shook her head. “No. He hung up on me.” She looked at guard again. “Did he say what he wants?”
“No, ma’am. But he’s furious, and he said if you’re not at the gate in five minutes, he’s going to drive through it.” The guard scowled at me.
Nope. Definitely not forgiven.
She took a deep breath. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
I expected her to argue. She didn’t.
“No. Bring him back here to the lobby of Echo-10,” Azrael said to the guard. “I don’t want anybody making a scene at my gate.”
“Roger that, sir,” the guard said, turning on his heel.
I looked down at Fury as we followed Az to the building. “It’s going to be ugly.”
She sighed. “You think?”
After my earlier conversation with Fury, I half expected the inside of Echo-10 to be transformed to something resembling the inside of Alcatraz, but when Az used the retina scanner to let us in, everything was exactly the same. Visually, anyway.
The way the building felt, however?
My heart began to palpitate.
“What’s going on here?” I looked around the L-shaped lobby. To our left was an elevator to the apartments upstairs. To the right, two glass sliding doors led into the common living room and kitchen. And down the hallway ahead of us…
Fresh death pulled at me like a magnet.
“Azrael?” I asked.
“Follow me,” he said, walking past.
Fury stopped next to me. “What is it?”
“There’s a body here.”
Fury looked around like the body might be somewhere around our feet. Grabbing her shoulder, I turned her body toward the hallway, just as Nurse Dana stepped out of a door on the right side.
It was the Echo-10 infirmary. Sloan and I had spent a lot of time there with our friend Taiya. A memory that haunted me now.
Fury and I reluctantly joined Azrael.
“Dana, the door,” he said.
The nurse hesitated. Her mismatched eyes were set on me. She knew what I was, and while it hadn’t seemed to bother her much before, now, she was frightened. “Azrael, I don’t feel the patient is stable enough to—”
“Dana.” My father’s tone was scolding.
Without further objection, Dana pushed open the door marked with a medical cross, and my ears immediately heard the sound of life support. The rise and fall of the hissing respirator. The slow and steady beep beep beep of the heart monitor.
Inside, a nurse’s station faced two square cubicles with wide glass doors. Through the door on the right, I saw a woman lying on the bed. I’d seen her before in a similar state:
Tied to a bed in Venice, Italy.
Only now, her midsection was swollen.
I stumbled back a step, Azrael’s “plan” suddenly crystal clear. I raked my hand through my hair. “What have you done?”
“She was already dead, Warren.” Azrael walked around to the woman’s bedside. “But her child was not.”
Suddenly sick, I turned my back to them. Fury was in front of me, concern clear on her face. “What’s happening?”
I looked past her, unable to focus on anything. “This is the woman Cassiel and I failed to save in Venice. The last victim of Vito Saez. She was pregnant when he killed her.”
“My god.” Fury covered her mouth and looked toward Azrael. “And you’re keeping her alive to what? Swap out the Morning Star and hope Adrianne won’t notice?”
“That’s the idea,” Azrael said.
When I turned back toward the bed, Azrael was leaning over the woman’s body. Part of me wanted to drag him away from her. “This is twisted, Az. Even for you.”
“I thought it was pretty genius,” he argued. “They’re close to the same gestation. Both boys. Both part of our world.”
“Part of our world?” Fury asked.
“The child’s mother had the sight,” I said. “It’s what made her Saez’s target.”
“And if this boy inherits the gift, he’ll be an asset to Iliana. And to Jett,” Azrael said to Fury.
I took a step forward, but Dana grabbed onto the back of my shirt. “That’s close enough, Archangel. We’ve worked really hard to keep her alive. We don’t need you screwing up the plan.”
“You’re both insane,” Fury said, shaking her head.
Azrael’s head tilted. “Why? Save the child. Neutralize the situation.”
“How do you even plan on making the swap?” she asked.
“Nurse Dana.” I looked back at her standing in the doorway. “You were there to take Jett the day he was born if he was the Morning Star, weren’t you?”
“What?” Fury’s face whipped toward my father. “Are you kidding me?”
With an exasperated sigh, Azrael walked over and put his hands on Fury’s shoulders. “I’ve never made it a secret that I’ll go to any lengths to do what’s necessary. Now, this is in the past, Allison. Jett is safe. It’s over.”
There was hard pounding on the door outside.
“That will be John.” Azrael’s eyes flicked toward the door. “Go deal with him.”
Fury was angry. Dangerously angry. But she took a few steps backward, then walked out.
When she was gone, I leaned against the glass wall. “So how’s this supposed to work? You’ll bring Adrianne here when she goes into labor?”
Azrael’s head bent, and his eyes locked with mine. “Don’t worry about the details, son. The less you know the better.”
“And the Morning Star? Where will you keep him?” I asked.
“We have facilities in place to take care of him until permanent arrangements can be made.” He looked me up and down. “Where’s your sword?”
That’s right. I was the catalyst for the permanent arrangements.
“It’s locked up in the armory.” Nausea churned in my stomach again. I touched my temples. “Who knows about this?”
“No one else outside this building except for the medical flight crew who helped me bring her here from Italy. Though they don’t know the details. Also, Chimera.”
“The new girl?” I was surprised. “You trust her that much?”
“Yes, and you will too.”
“The doctor also knows,” Dana said.
I looked up at the ceiling. “That’s why you brought Rothwell back.”
“Yes,” Azrael said.
There was shouting down the hall, and something slammed against the floor. I was out of the room first with Azrael right behind me. When we stopped in front of the glass doors, John was lunging toward Fury on the other side.
Before the doors could open and Azrael or I could step in, Fury’s hand shot forward, and she caught John’s Adam’s apple in the webbing between her thumb and index fingers.
He gagged and fell back coughing.
Fury snarled. “Don’t come at me, John McNamara. You won’t live to regret it.”
Azrael and I just looked at each other. Azrael smiled.
Looking around the room, I saw they had turned over a small bookcase, and a baby’s car seat sat on the conference table. Baby Jett was inside it, kicking his tiny feet and screaming.
“What the hell’s going on in here?” I asked.
Panting and holding his throat, John looked at me. “Just who I wanted to see.” John coughed again. “Hello, Warren.”
John was older than me with a shock of gray in his hair and scruffy beard. He was smaller, too, by at least twenty pounds. And shorter. Five-eleven, tops.
But none of that was to say I wouldn’t have to use my superpowers if he got physical. John was a retired Navy Seal commander and (I’d heard) still fighting in the local MMA circuit around Raleigh.
“Hi, John. Fury, are you all right?”
Fury was unbuckling the baby. “I’m fine. We were just arguing.”
“Looked like more than that to me,” I said.
She lifted the baby out and held him against her chest. “John kicked over the bookcase. He didn’t touch me.”
“Can’t say as much for her.” John was still holding his throat.
Fury straightened Jett’s black T-shirt. “You shouldn’t have tried to get in my face.”
“No. You shouldn’t have,” I said.
John took a step toward me. “Think you need to protect her from me, Warren?”
I shook my head. “She can do a good job of that all by herself. But she probably won’t kill you. I will.”
John smirked. “OK.” He looked at Fury. “So is it him then? Is he Jett’s father?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Fury said with a hard eyeroll.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No. He’s not the father!”
“Then who is?”
Fury bounced the crying baby and rubbed his back. “He doesn’t have a father, John!”
Whatever John was expecting to hear, that clearly wasn’t it. “Come again?”
“Jett doesn’t have a father.” She took a deep breath. “He’s an angel, not a human.”
John looked a bit like a cartoon character who’d been smacked in the face with a frying pan. All that was missing were tiny birds circling his head.
“She’s telling you the truth,” I said.
His dangerous eyes darted toward me. “Stay out of it, Warren.”
“How about if I get involved?” Azrael walked around me. “You’re a guest in the middle of my army. I suggest you not forget that.”
John spat on the floor at Azrael’s feet.
I lurched toward him.
“Enough!” Fury yelled.
Azrael threw his arm across my chest to hold me back.
Fury walked over. “Can you take Jett and give us a minute?” She turned the baby around in her arms. His black T-shirt said SECURITY across the front in all white caps.
“Please?” she said, holding him toward me.
I didn’t want to move. My eyes flashed toward John again.
Azrael pulled me back a step. “Take the baby and give them the room. You can watch from the lobby.” I didn’t budge. “Come on, Warren. She’ll kill him faster than either of us if she has to.”
With a deep breath, I carefully took Jett from Fury’s hands, dangling him like a rag doll.
“Good grief, Warren. Hold him like a football,” she said.
I’d never really played football, but I tucked Jett into the crook of my arm and cradled him against my ribs. “You know me being this close isn’t healthy for him.”
Too much exposure to me or any other angel would cause Jett—or any other baby—irreparable damage. Even with limited contact, he’d suffer from a migraine when taken from me. It was the primary reason I’d had to leave my family when Iliana was born.
“It’s better than him listening to us fight,” she said. “It will only be a minute.”
I took a step backward toward the lobby, keeping my eyes on John. “I’ll be out there listening to every word.”
“I expect no less,” Fury said.
Azrael followed me into the lobby. Through the walls, we listened intently to the conversation in the living room.
It didn’t take long for John to swallow the idea that Jett was supernatural. He’d seen enough unexplainable things in his time with Fury to not be completely thrown off the dock by the revelation. Sloan had brought John back from the edge of death once, after all.
But it was Fury lying to him he couldn’t seem to get past. And honestly, I couldn’t blame him. He’d gone through her whole pregnancy and the first two months of Jett’s life believing he was a dad. And he wasn’t. That’d be hard for anyone to forgive. Including me.
Finally, he shook his head, staring at the floor between them. “I can’t do this anymore. You don’t love me. You don’t respect me—”
Fury started to object, but John held up a hand to stop her. “Allison, if you had a shred of respect for me, you’d have told me all this in the beginning.”
Her face fell, but she didn’t argue.
“I’ll keep Jett until you get back, but after that, you’re both on your own.”
“John, I’m so—”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”
Az and I both cringed.
John pointed at Fury. “You’ve got two weeks to get back, or I’m dumping Jett outside that gate.”
I looked down at the baby in my arms. Black hair. Dark skin. One eye green and the other dark-chocolate, just like his mother’s.
He reached toward my face, seemingly mesmerized. I was probably the only angel he’d seen since the day he was born. I bent to meet his fingers. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll bring your mom back in no time.”
The sliding doors opened, and John walked out carrying the car seat. He put it down on the table against the wall, then walked toward me with his arms outstretched.
I wanted to say something, but what? I opted for silence instead as I handed him the baby.
As John wrestled with the seat’s straps, Fury carried the diaper bag through the doors. “He’ll have a migraine soon after you leave. There’s baby Tylenol in the inside pocket.”
“We’ll be fine,” John said, pushing her aside.
She forced her way in front of him again and bent over the car seat. She kissed the top of the baby’s head. “I love you, Jett.”
John moved her out of the way again and hooked the car seat’s handle over his arm. “Two weeks, Allison,” he said, grabbing the diaper bag. “You’ve got two weeks.”
When John threw the door open, Fury walked over beside me. “You OK?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you lying?”
“Yes.”
I put my arm around her shoulders, and she let me. She leaned into me and shook her head against my chest. “I’m going to kill Flint when I get my hands on him.”
Before the heavy front door closed, a hand pulled it back open. A figure darkened the doorway. I half expected it to be Flint.
It wasn’t.
This person was short with dark skin and wild hair… and an unearthly power that radiated off her.
“Who is that?” Fury whispered.
The door closed behind the woman.
“Oh my god.” I took a step back. “She’s a Seramorta.”